Page 67 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

KODIE

I throw my bag over my shoulder and step out of the airplane, my eyes watering with the brightness of the sun. It’s a vast cry from the miserable, gray day we left behind. But no amount of sun and warmth can soften the blow of what I find waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.

The second my eyes land on her, ice floods through my veins.

Shoving Marilyn aside, I race down with my heart lodged in my throat.

“Sutton?” I bellow as I race toward Mom.

Her face is pale and her eyes are wide as she watches me approach.

“She’s okay,” Mom says, sounding more confident than she looks.

My heart continues to race, my hands trembling with fear.

“Then why?—”

“She took a hard hit on the ice during her game.”

Oh god.

I squeeze my eyes tight for a beat as all the fears I had about her playing ice hockey come rushing back.

I know how dangerous a sport it is. I’ve been fairly lucky with only a few breaks and pulls, but I’ve witnessed more than my fair share of players who’ve suffered worse.

It’s a position I would never, ever want my baby girl in.

“She got knocked out, and they took her to the hospital.”

My chest tightens to the point I can barely suck in a breath.

“Why aren’t you there? She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“She’s not alone,” Mom explains. “She’s with Casey.”

“Fuck,” I breathe, sinking my hands into my hair and staring up at the clear sky.

“My car is in the garage. She went to the game with Aurora and Mila,” Mom explains despite me already knowing this. “I got a taxi here so we can go together.”

“Rivers, everything okay?” Coach asks, coming to join us.

“It’s Sutton. She’s in the hospital.” Those are the only words I manage to get out before he’s practically shoving me in the direction of the parking lot.

I take off running, forgetting that Mom doesn’t stand a chance of keeping up. My only thought is getting to my little girl.

The second I’m at my car, I throw my bag in the trunk and climb inside.

I have the engine started and I’m ready to back out when Mom finally climbs inside, her breathing erratic.

“I’ve got…GPS…” She waves her cell at me. “Go. Just…go.”

I don’t need telling twice. I throw the car into reverse and spin out without looking to see if anyone is there.

Calm down, Rivers.

You need to get there in one piece.

Mom syncs her cell to my Bluetooth, and in seconds the map is up on the screen, telling me where to go.

Long, agonizing minutes pass before Mom speaks.

“She’s okay,” she assures me. “I’ve spoken to her. Casey has kept me informed from the moment it happened. She called you, but obviously?—”

“My cell was off,” I answer for her as the weight of the world presses down on my shoulders.

My baby girl needed me, and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t contactable and?—

“FUCK,” I roar out, slamming my palms down on the wheel, but it does little to shatter the tension wrapped around me in a tight hold.

“I’ll call her. You can hear her voice then, know she’s okay.”

I don’t respond. I can’t. The thought of hearing either of their voices right now is enough to push me over the edge.

But not a second later, a familiar voice hits my ears, and I realize that no preparation would have been enough.

“Hi Kathleen,” Casey says lightly.

My entire body erupts with goosebumps as a chill races down my spine.

I need you.

“We’ve just left the airport. GPS is saying just over an hour.”

“Did you hear that?” Casey asks. “Your daddy’s on his way.”

“Hi Daddy,” a little voice says through the speakers, and I swear, my heart rips in two at the weakness in it.

“Hey Peanut,” I breathe, speaking for the first time. “How are you feeling?”

“Pfft, it was barely even a hit. I’m fine.”

“Said like a true hockey player,” Casey teases.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Sutton said.

“Peanut, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I wasn’t at your game.”

“Wait,” Sutton says sounding a little more awake all of a sudden. “Did I score?”

“What?” Casey asks while a knowing smile curls at my lips.

“I took a shot; did it go in?”

A laugh bursts out of me. It feels so fucking good.

Mom looks over, her eyes burning into the side of my face.

“Yeah, it went in,” Casey tells her.

“Yesss,” she hisses.

I can’t wipe the smile off my face as I shake my head.

“I stopped them from having a shutout. That’s all that matters.”

It’s absolutely not what matters at all, but as a hockey player, I get it. I’m pretty sure Casey does too.

“Yeah, Rivers. That’s all that matters. ”

There’s some movement down the line before Casey explains that the doctor has just arrived to do some checks.

“I can call back after,” she offers.

“No, let Sutton get some rest. We’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, sure. I’ll grab coffees and?—”

“Casey,” I say, stopping her mid-sentence. “Thank you.”

“Kodie, I?—”

“Not now,” I hiss, shooting a glance at Mom who’s sitting in my passenger seat with a smile. “We’ll see you soon. Make sure Sutton does as she’s told.”

“I’ll do my best,” she promises before hanging up.

“Kodie—”

“Mom,” I warn.

She chuckles. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to listen to anything I have to say. It’s not like I’m older or wiser or anything. But please, talk to her. Be honest with her. Tell her how you really feel.”

Oh yeah, because that’s so fucking easy.

B y the time we pull into the hospital parking lot, my patience to see my girl has all but run out. I park the car in the first space I find before racing out.

“Just go,” Mom calls from behind me.

“Shit, I?—”

“Go, Kodie.”

Mom’s not old and frail by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, she’s in very good shape. She does yoga three times a week and walks with a group of friends. But even still, she’s no match for a professional athlete.

I look back, torn between waiting for her and getting to Sutton. But when she tells me to go again, I take off running.

Thanks to Casey’s message earlier, we both know what floor and ward Sutton is on.

Without looking back, I burst into the building and head for the stairs. There is no way I can be contained in an elevator. I don’t need one; it’s only eight flights of stairs.

By the time I hit the top, my chest is heaving and sweat glistens on my skin.

Okay, maybe the elevator wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.

I step into the hallway, fighting to catch my breath and focus so I can read the ward names.

Finding the one I want, I take off running again, and in seconds, I’m rushing toward the nurses’ station.

“Sutton Rivers,” I force out through my heaving breaths. “She’s here, she?—”

“Kodie.”

Casey’s voice wraps around me like a warm blanket, and just for a moment, everything stops.

“Kodie, Sutton is right over here,” she says again when I don’t visibly react.

I pause, terrified to turn around. But time for hiding is over.

“Ko—” Her voice falters as my eyes lock on hers, the air between us crackling like a livewire. “S-she’s in here,” Casey whispers, pointing over her shoulder.

My legs move without instruction from my brain, my eyes holding Casey’s until I’m forced to look at the door behind her.

“Daddy,” Sutton cries from the bed.

She looks tiny in a huge hospital bed surrounded by stark white sheets.

“Peanut,” I breathe, taking both her hands in mine. “Shit. Are you really okay?”

I can tell from the raised eyebrow at my swear word that she is. But I need to hear it with my own ears.

“And no hockey bravado. I’m not your coach. I’m your father.”

She smiles softly at me. “I know, Daddy. My head hurts, but I’m okay. The hit wasn’t that hard, but I lost my balance, and—” Tears fill her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. “I should have been able to catch myself.”

Lowering my ass to the edge of the bed, I pull her into my arms, holding her as tight as I dare while she cries.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to the best of us. You scored your team’s only goal, and you’re okay. That’s all that matters, right?”

She shakes her head, sniffling. “I made you worried and you had to travel all the way out here after landing and?—”

“Sutton,” I warn. “I would go to the end of the earth for you. This is nothing.”

Her little arms tighten around my waist as her sobs subside.

She keeps her face pressed against my chest, and thank fuck she does, because it means she can’t see the tears that are flooding my eyes.

It’s only now that I’m here with her in my arms that I fully appreciate just how fucking terrifying it was to see Mom standing there, waiting for me.

Yes, Sutton has a mild concussion, that is not something to celebrate. But it could have been so much worse.

Movement behind me has me looking over my shoulder, and my breath catches at the sight of Casey and Mom standing together, watching us. They both look emotional and exhausted, but it’s Casey who’s barely holding on.

The second her eyes find mine, a sob breaks free.

It fucking wrecks me, because I want to be over there with her as well as right here with Sutton.

Thankfully, Mom pulls her in for a hug.

“You did amazing, Casey. Thank you for looking after our girl.”

I nod, agreeing with Mom as Casey watches me over Mom’s shoulder.

After a few minutes, Sutton releases me, lying back down. She’s pale and exhausted, her adrenaline running out faster than she can control now that I’m here.

I stay sitting on the edge of the bed as Casey hands me the coffee she promised.

Our fingers touch as I take it from her, sparks shooting up my arm from the small contact.

My lips part to say something, but a knock at the door has me swallowing the words.

Megan, Sutton’s head coach, walks inside, her face hard with stress and worry.

“Mr. Rivers, I’m?—”

“It’s Kodie,” I remind her, just like I do every time she addresses me so formally.

“Of course. I just spoke to the doctor again and everything is as it should be. They’d like to keep her in overnight for observation. I’ll organize accommodation for both you and your mother.”

“I can do it,” Casey pipes up. “Go and look after the girls. We’re all okay here.”

“A-are you sure? I?—”

“We’re fine,” I assure her. “Thank you for everything.”

“When can I come back to practice?” Sutton asks, making us all smile.

“Let’s see what the doctor says before you leave tomorrow and then make a decision from there.”

“But we have another game next Sunday.”

I let out a sigh, understanding all too well her desperation to push through this and continue as normal. Hopefully, she’ll be doing that by her next game. But if there are any signs of this being more than a mild concussion, she’ll have to get through me first.

“If you’re well enough, you’ll get some ice time,” I promise her. “But only if you have medical clearance.”

She stares at me but wisely doesn’t argue.

“You’ll be back on the ice before you know it,” Megan promises. “Good job today, Sutton. And despite the obvious, that was a fantastic goal.”

Sutton beams at the praise before Megan says her goodbyes and disappears.

“Right, well, I’m going to find a hotel,” Mom says, pushing to stand with her coffee in her hand.

“Oh, no, I can?—”

“Nonsense. You stay here. Catch up,” Mom says looking between us. If she’s going for innocent, she’s falling about an eternity from the mark. “I’m glad you’re okay, sweetie,” she says before kissing Sutton’s cheek. “I won’t be long. And who knows, maybe I’ll find some candy on my travels.”

Before we know it, Mom is closing the door behind her, leaving the three of us alone for the first time.